


We Need to Stop Dancing Around

by Mamamia_51



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Growth, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Beta Read, Personal Growth, Teasing, Training, we die like mne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-07-01 01:24:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15763746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mamamia_51/pseuds/Mamamia_51
Summary: Damian had changed a lot over the years, and Dick has taken notice. Maybe too much. Maybe so much that he's starting to imagine things... like Damian stretching right in front of him with no shirt and leggings on.Okay, maybe it's not all in Dick's head.Okay, it's definitely not all in Dick's head.





	We Need to Stop Dancing Around

Damian was always training. It was who he was; he liked to train, and fight, and protect Gotham, and save the world. He had done it enough times. 

That's what Dick really noticed about Damian. He had changed so much. He could barley remember the boy that first came to them so many years ago. The boy that wanted to kill. The boy that wanted to hurt people.

He had grown. 

Not just with his personality either— he had grown physically. The once short, wiry boy had become the tall, broad chested man. Dick couldn't help but notice— and Damian, the ever observant detective was aware of that. 

When Damian turned 18 he found ways to spend time with Dick, which was nice. After moving to Bludhaven he couldn't hang out as often with Damian, so when he showed up on his doorstep one day after patrol, he invited him in and was glad to ask what was on his mind... which was a lot. Damian explained that his father was bringing on another boy to become Robin. He hadn't asked if it was okay or anything, he just showed up with another orphan in tow. Damian had mentioned that he finally knew what it felt like to be Drake... he said it disgusted him. 

Dick told him that it was fine if he stayed with him. He could find a new identity and train in the gym he ran (the back room, because he ran an actual gym, not a vigilante training center). Damian enjoyed the life. He even helped Dick with some of his work. 

It grew to be quite domestic. 

Damian found an identity fairly quickly: Flamebird. 

His costume was similar to Dick's own, but his had more color, and was red. Dick thought that it was a shame, because Damian looked good in green. It brought out his eyes. Damian probably knew this already because almost all of his clothes outside of Flamebird's were green. And of course black. 

Two years later and they were still in the same place. Not actually though, because the gym was successful and Damian and Dick were both technically Waynes, so they were able to afford a bigger apartner. It even had its own training room and a supercomputer linked to the batcave. 

Damian was a trip. Everything he did put Dick on edge. Dick knew that it wasn't just in his head— it wasn't him. It was Damian. Damian and his stupid flexibility, and his stupid strength, and his stupid height, and his stupid face. Maybe it was just Dick. Maybe he was imagining all those lingering touches, and those unnecessary flexes, and those glances. 

He was doing it now; imagining Damian looking up from his book with almost every turn of the page. Just watching Dick eat a bowl of cereal.

When he was done he set his bowl down on the coffee table and un-muted the television. It was a news program, talking about the exploits of Nightwing and Flamebird. Dick had of course lived through the events of what the reporter was covering, so he was only half paying attention to the screen when Damian stood up and went over to him. 

"My shoulder is stiff." He complained, bending one arm above his head so his elbow was pointing towards the celiling. He wrapped his other hand around the elbow and pulled it to the side. The stretch left a stripe of skin below his bellybutton exposed. Dick caught his eyes lingering on the trail of hair leading below the waistband of his sweats. 

"Did you hurt it last night?" Dick asked as he moved his eyes upwards. 

"I think I landed on it wrong." Damian explained. He stopped the stretch and remained standing in front of Dick. 

"Was it after that hit from Blockbuster?" Damian shrugged in response. 

"Probably." 

"You should have been more careful." Dick instructed. Damian averted his eyes. "You were distracted." He added. 

"I don't get distracted." Damian returned. 

"Then why is your shoulder hurting you?" Dick hummed back. Damian didn't say anything in return. 

A moment of silence passed where they just looked at each other, waiting for the other to say something. It was Dick to break the silence, he was always the one to break the silence. 

"Where does it hurt?" Damian smiled and sat down next to Dick. 

"In the middle, right under the shoulder blade." Dick raised a hand and pressed his palm to the spot he thought Damian described. 

"Here?" He questioned. Damian told him to move an inch downward. Dick did as he was told and pressed down. Damian let out a groan. 

"Yeah," he said, "right there." 

Dick began to massage the sore muscle. He pressed down harder with his thumb and rubbed it in small circles against where Damian said he was hurt. 

The reaction was immediate.

It started with small noises. Damian would let out a couple soft groans, and then he escalated to what could be described as little moans. Dick didn't know what was happening. He didn't want to stop if Damian was really in pain, but the noises he let out were starting to become... distracting. Dick didn't stop, but then Damian decided to let out a completely obscene sound that caused Dick to freeze. Damian asked what was wrong. 

"Nothing," Dick returned, standing up, "Some of us have real jobs though." 

"I work there." Damian smiled up at him. 

"Sometimes." Dick repeated. "and with no pay." He added. 

"Good point. I think a deserve a raise, Grayson." He just shook his head and started to walk to his room. 

That was another thing about Damian that changed. It was usually Grayson when he was joking around, but whenever they were alone it was Richard, and once he was caught calling him Dick. His name. What everyone else called him. Dick was going to mention it, but Damian looked appalled after he said it and shook his head. Dick decided it needed no further comment. 

Dick thought about it, and the more he did he came to the conclusion that Damian was doing it on purpose. After the revelation everything made sense. 

All the times Damian would take extra care to stretch in front of Dick. All the times he kept his hands on he shoulders or back, or anything. When he leaned over the to type something on the computer when Dick was sitting in the chair. When he roamed the house in just a pair of sweats with no underwear on (it was obvious. He made it obvious). When he took extra care to stitch him up. THOSE NOISES. 

Damian was teasing him. 

* * *

 It was night; Dick was about to go out to patrol. Damian wasn't allowed to yet because he had broken three ribs almost two weeks ago. Dick kept saying he couldn't go out despite Damian telling him he was fine. Dick thought Damian was trying to prove it. 

He had his shirt off. Dick could've sworn that he lost all of them or something because now he seemed to never be wearing them. 

There was a fading bruise on the ribs that were broken. He was swinging a dulled sword at a dummy. He moved fluidly, hitting the hard material over and over again. Every muscle in Damian's back and arms flexed and glistened with sweat. 

Dick couldn't help but stare. He thought that this might've also been Damian teasing him. 

He thought he should tease back. 

He hadn't changed yet; he was in a blue muscle shirt and a pair of basketball shorts. He was barefoot and walked silently behind Damian. He of course sensed Dick's presence 

Damian swung around— sword in hand, stopping just before hitting Dick’s neck. 

Dick didn't flinch, instead he just cocked an eyebrow and pulled the sword away from his neck. 

"Your form was off." Was all Dick said. Damian quickly turned insulted. 

"It was not." He returned back too quickly. 

"It was." It wasn't, but Dick wasn't about to say that now. "Here." He said, and pushed Damian to make him face the dummy. Dick ran his fingers down the arm of the hand holding the sword. He wrapped his hand around Damian's and stepped closer, pressing his chest to Damian's bare back. Dick trailed his other hand up Damian's side and grabbed his shoulder. "You need to straighten your back, and hold your shoulders," he pushed them towards himself, "like this." 

Damian's skin was warms under his palms. It felt nice. The same thing with how his chest was pressed to Damian's back. Damian had grown taller than Dick over the years, and now his nose was at the nape of Damian's neck. He smelled nice— his deodorant was some sort of tropical sent. It was the sent Dick had grown accustomed to after years of being around him, but there was also the smell of sweat, Dick had expected it to be bad, but on Damian it smelled oddly good. 

They stayed like that for a few seconds, but then Dick squeezed both his hands, and pulled away. "Okay, I'm heading out. Stay here and rest a bit."  

Damian didn't say a word, but he watched at Dick left with wide eyes and slack mouth. 

* * *

 It was like that for a while— a back and forth between the two. A dance of teasing. 

When Dick looked back, he realized that this was inevitable. That the dance would end. That he practically forced this to happen. 

"It", by the way, was what was happening right now: Damian on top of Dick in the training room. The mat pressing into his back. They were both sparring, shirtless, each trying to out tease the other. 

Damian made the move— the one where he ended up tripping Dick, knowing that full well he would be pulled down with him. At first Damian caught himself without falling completely on top of the other man, but he quickly fixed the solution by lowering his hips, and bending closer, resting his weight on his forearms.  They stared at each other for a moment. "Are you going to get up?" Dick asked breathlessly. Damian ground his hips into Dick's. 

"Do you want me to?" The younger man asked back. 

Dick had a decision to make; one that his body was already making. 

Damian didn't wait for an answer as he tilted his head lower, moving his mouth mere centimeters from Dick's. 

"Damian." Dick interrupted the movement. Damian paused and sighed. 

"Yes, Richard?" 

"We can't." He whispered. Damian groaned and sat up with a knee on either side of Dick's hips.

"You don't want to?" Damian asked in a sad tone. Dick felt like an asshole. 

"It's not— we can't do this Damian. You're Bruce's son. You're my brother. We shouldn't." Damian shook his head. 

"Those aren't good reasons.  It doesn't matter who's son I am and we are not brothers. Do you have a better reason?" His voice grew angrier and he was staring down at Dick intensely. 

"Damian." Dick tried. 

"Dick!" Damian shouted. "We need to stop dancing around this!" Dick hit his head against the mat and sighed.  

"Dancing around what?" Dick asked with his eyes towards the ceiling. He knew exactly what Damian was talking about, but he was afraid to say anything. 

"You're attracted to me." Damian deadpanned. 

"Excuse me?"

"And I'm attracted to you." Dick didn't say anything back. "That's what we're dancing around. That's what you're avoiding, and frankly, I'm tired of it, Richard." Damian asserted. "Do you want this to happen or not?" Dick looked up at him, and let his eyes fall down the length of Damian's body. Dick closed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair. 

"Yes." Dick whispered. It was barely audible, but he knew Damian heard it. 

"I'm sorry what was that?" Damian asked. Dick heard the smile in his voice and felt him lean closer to his face. Dick opened his eyes and looked at Damian. 

"I said," Dick sat up and was almost touching noses with Damian, "yes." Damian's grin grew. 

"Good." 

They stayed like that for a while, almost touching, but not. Dick was confused— Damian had been so forward, but after Dick admitted that it wasn't some one sided thing... nothing. 

"I'm going to kiss you." Dick told him softly. Damian nodded his head. 

Dick smiled and brought his hands up to cup Damian's face. He felt the blood rush to Damian's cheeks through his hands. Dick leaned in closer, and Damian didn't pull away, so he closed the distance. 

It was sweet. That's how Dick would've described it. Sweet and slow and for some reason Damian was really good at this, which was weird because Dick couldn't remember Damian ever dating anyone, but that was for another time. Right now he sunk into the kiss, bringing Damian in closer till Dick was forced back into the mat. Damian rolled his hips (another thing that Dick didn't know he was even able to do) and moaned into the kiss. Dick wrapped his legs around Damian's waist and rolled them over. They were forced to separate, breaking the kiss. Damian let out a breath as his back hit the floor. Dick kissed him again. And again. And again, until they needed to breathe. 

Dick looked at Damian and saw his face flushed and his lips red. Dick placed his hands on Damian's chest. 

"I only have one rule." Dick told the man under him. Damian looked confused. 

"What's that?" Dick smiled and leaned down to kiss Damian one more time. 

"You're going to be the one that breaks the news to Batman."  


End file.
